


Highfalutin Hijinks

by Pixiemage



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Car Accidents, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Injuries, Miscommunication, Pixiemage NatM Writing Prompt, Slang, Writing Prompt, western slang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25180381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiemage/pseuds/Pixiemage
Summary: If Jedediah’s glare could set fires, the General Store would be up in flames right about now, along with the few citizens of the Wild West who had been daring enough to go over and try to speak with the silently fuming cowboy.Nobody knew what had their leader in such a state. Most days Jed was in a fairly good mood, and even when fights broke out between the Americans and the Romans - or, hell, if the Mayans managed to join in - Jedediah was all bright smiles and high energy, raring to take on anyone who came his way. He loved the fun of the fight more than whatever outcome it gave. But clearly something had the cowboy looking like somebody pissed in his whiskey...not that he was about to tell anyone else what that something was.(In which Octavius is trying to mend fences on multiple fronts, Jedediah gets jealous, and a big misunderstanding leads to better things.)This is part of my NatM Writing Prompt on Tumblr!Characters & Adjectives:Jedediah (Jealous)Octavius (Mischievous OR Quarrelsome)
Relationships: Jedediah/Octavius (Night at the Museum)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 126





	Highfalutin Hijinks

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first step into the world of writing fanfiction for Night at the Museum! I kind of fell into this fandom by complete accident, was welcomed in with open arms, and I'm loving every moment. Enjoy!

If Jedediah’s glare could set fires, the General Store would be up in flames right about now, along with the few citizens of the Wild West who had been daring enough to go over and try to speak with the silently fuming cowboy.

Nobody knew what had their leader in such a state. Most days Jed was in a fairly good mood, and even when fights broke out between the Americans and the Romans - or, hell, if the Mayans managed to join in - Jedediah was all bright smiles and high energy, raring to take on anyone who came his way. He loved the fun of the fight more than whatever outcome it gave. Even when a strong-willed centurion managed to knock him out or give him a black eye, his negative reactions were much louder and much more expressive than whatever _this_ was.

A young gunslinger named Billy had been watching from a distance for a while now, worried for their leader but not quite sure how to help.

“Anybody know what he was doin’ ‘fore this?” he leaned over to ask a nearby cowboy, who was on his way past with two horses and a few coils of rope. The man - George - stopped a moment to cast Jedediah a sideways glance.

“Hmph,” his brow furrowed. “Last I heard he’d been headin’ over to visit that new Roman friend o’ his. The general feller...Octo-somethin’.”

“Octavius?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” George nodded. “Dunno what happened after that, but he came back lookin’ like somebody pissed in his whiskey.”

Billy nodded.

“Thanks, George,” he patted the cowboy on the shoulder. “I’ll head over to Rome and see if I can’t find a way of fixin’ it.”

George raised his eyebrows at the young man.

“Headin’ to _Rome_?” he asked. “Listen, I know we been on better terms with our neighbors since that whole shindig with th’ tablet an’ Cecil and such a few months back...but you be careful, alright boy? I still don’t trust them Skirts farther ‘n I can throw ‘em.”

“I thought Jedediah told us not ta call ‘em that anymore,” Billy corrected him.

George had the decency to look a little ashamed, tugging at the brim of his hat and looking away.

“...force of habit,” he said in way of apology. “Just _be careful._ Got it?”

“Yessir,” Billy nodded, and George left with a brisk nod.

Billy wasn’t dumb. He knew full well how dangerous the Romans could be when provoked. Which was why he wasn’t planning on provoking anyone, not on purpose anyway. He had made a friend of his own on the Roman side of the border, so he knew they could be just as friendly as the citizens of the Old West...if not a little snootier sometimes.

Though, before he went off on this little misadventure–

Billy cast Jedediah a glance. He should...he should probably ask Jedediah first, right?

It felt like half of the eyes of the West were pinned on his back as he approached the still-fuming cowboy. Jedediah was sitting on an upturned barrel just off to the side of the General Store, spinning and flipping one of his guns expertly in his hands, over and over and over with a sharp glare locked heatedly on the side wall of the building. Despite the fact that Billy knew Jed’s guns were non-functional, he couldn’t help the nervousness that washed over him as he approached.

“Uh...Jed?”

Jedediah didn’t look up, but he made a small irritated sound which Billy assumed was some kind of response of recognition.

“...I know you were over in Rome today, an’ I just was wonderin’ what happened over there?” Jed’s shoulders stiffened, and Billy went on. “If it ain’t my business, I’ll leave it be...but I hate seein’ you in such a state. Anythin’ I can do?”

Jedediah didn’t respond, but his gun had gone very still in his hands. Billy gulped.

“...should I go talk ta Octavius for ya? Or–”

“No.”

It was the first remotely _English_ thing Jedediah had said all evening. Jed shot a look over toward the young gunslinger, eyes sharp.

“Don’t bother,” Jed went on. “That highfalutin toga-wearin’ ignoramus ain’t worth the effort.”

Billy blinked, surprised. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

“I...thought he was your friend?”

“He–” Jed cut off, his mouth freezing mid-sentence. He looked as if he had been punched in the gut and he swallowed, his eyes softening ever-so-slightly. He bowed his head and took a long, slow breath.

“Yeah, well...so did I.”

Then without another word, Jedediah left his spot by the General Store for the first time in hours, his feet carrying him to the front corner of the diorama. A pile of coiled rope sat near its edge and Jed kicked at it, sending it tumbling down toward the museum floor below...all but the end which was tied tightly to the boulder at Jed’s feet. Without a word and with the skill of somebody who had been doing it for years, Jed gripped the rope in gloved hands and stepped right off the side of the display, sliding down to the ground. Then he stalked off, straight out of the room and out of sight. The heated glare in his eyes remained.

Ah, hell. Okay. Well–

Billy spun around to maybe ask someone else if they’d heard anything more on what was going on, only to find the entirety of the Wild West diorama fixing him with pointed looks, all varying between surprise, concern, confusion, and downright accusation. He gulped.

“Oh, crimany–”

* * *

A remote-controlled car tore through the halls of the Museum of Natural History, its miniature wheels squealing against linoleum and stone at tight turns, the back end swinging outward almost dangerously as its driver kept careful control of the arc.

Much like everything else in the museum, something about the tablet made the toy car more _real_ when night fell. Where normally there would be plastic seats for show only, where normally it would have to be controlled by remote or it wouldn’t run, the car that Larry had gifted Jedediah and Octavius worked as a normal car would, complete with foot pedals and a functional steering wheel. Granted, that also meant that a crash would be just as dangerous...but crashing was the furthest thing from Jed’s mind at the moment.

The cowboy took another turn at top speed, threading through the feet of wandering exhibits like an expert, not even caring where he was going.

Octavius. _That_ was the source of his irritation, of his...his foul mood. His...anger? No, that word didn’t quite fit what he was feeling. Jed’s jaw tightened, his knuckles going white against the wheel beneath his gloves. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel _happy_. This wasn’t some fluffy heartfelt touchy-feely-type emotion, not even close. Probably. Maybe. God, he couldn’t think straight…

And the night had started so well, hadn’t it? His mind began to wander.

_Jedediah had taken to visiting Rome nearly every night since the battle for the tablet. Or, if Jed wasn’t visiting Rome, Octavius was visiting the West, or they were out exploring the museum together. There were nights when neither of them could get away from the responsibilities of their homes, when they had to stay in their respective dioramas and get some work done...but those were few and far between._

_Tonight was no different. Jedediah heaved himself up over the edge of the Roman exhibit, dusting off his chaps and strolling into Rome as if he owned the place. He asked around, doing his best to be friendly, and after a few tries (and a few suspicious looks) he was able to figure out where Octavius was. He gave the young soldier - what was his name? Fabian? - a quick grin and a tip of his hat in thanks before making a beeline for the gardens._

_Jedediah wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see when he got there. Octavius by himself, maybe...or him chatting with that Marcus fella who, if he remembered correctly, was Octavius’ second in command or something. What he_ hadn’t _been expecting was to see Octavius wandering the gardens with a charming young man Jedediah didn’t know, his eyes sparkling brilliantly as a joyous laugh bubbled up past his lips._

_The Roman looked more at ease than Jedediah had ever seen him. He was without his armor, sporting his embroidered red tunic with a belt around his waist, his helmet nowhere in sight...and his hair a stylish mess of dark curls. Light filtered in through the trees and stone statues of the garden, creating a golden halo around Octavius’ head and face, making him look younger. Handsome, even. Jed lost his footing for a moment at the unexpected thought, his breath hitching. A warmth swelled in his chest, one he wasn’t sure how to interpret or react to, and he took the moment of frozen uncertainty to take in the view. He sidestepped behind a pillar and tugged at his neckerchief with one hand._

_“...rustic, perhaps,” Octavius was saying, nodding and grinning brightly to the young man who walked with him. “‘Barbarian’ seems a little harsh, but I can’t argue that their lifestyle is much more–”_

_“Savage?”_

_“Cyrus, please!” Octavius chuckled. “I was going to say ‘wild’. The Americans might not be quite as elegant as Rome, but they are an ingenious bunch and more than a little resourceful.”_

_“And that is enough, to you?” Cyrus asked, an eyebrow quirked in mirth._

_“Why shouldn’t it be?” Octavius returned the raised eyebrow with one of his own. He stopped along the path and Cyrus turned to face him, his back to Jedediah. “Wanting to organize a truce, to offer an allegiance, would be beneficial to both Rome and America. This isn’t about surrendering, Cyrus, it is about multiplying our strengths and working with neighboring countries to achieve a greater goal. Is that not a positive step forward?” At Cyrus’ silence, he continued, his hands folding neatly behind his back. “We have yet to have a truly successful battle against the Mayans, and I get the feeling that they will not be so easily swayed to friendship. Perhaps joining forces with our American neighbors will be more beneficial than carrying on with this foolish fighting.”_

_“Foolish?” Cyrus repeated, scoffing. “And what of Rome? What of the expansion of the empire?”_

_Octavius chuckled again, stepping closer to the other man. He placed a placating hand on Cyrus’ shoulder._

_“You know as well as I, Cyrus, that Rome will continue to rise in power whether we garner peace with the cowboys or not. This could very well be a valuable stepping stone in–”_

_“Hey Ockie!” Jedediah finally found it in himself to step out of the shadows. This wasn’t a conversation meant for his ears, he knew, and the thought of snooping for any longer was putting a pit in his stomach._

_The moment Jedediah announced his presence, Octavius’ expression both brightened and tensed. It was an odd combination, one Jed couldn’t quite read, and shortly afterward Octavius snatched his hand back from Cyrus’ shoulder as if he’d been caught with it in the cookie jar. Cyrus turned to face the intrusion, his expression curious and intrigued._

_“Jedediah,” Octavius greeted him plainly. He cast a sideways glance toward Cyrus before answering. “Good evening. To what do we owe this pleasure?”_

_Something tightened in Jed’s chest, a harsh contrast to the inexplicable warmth that had made its home there a few moments prior._

_“Jus’ thought ya might like to take the ol’ sports car out fer a spin,” Jed offered, but the words felt sour on his tongue. Fake._

_“Oh?” Cyrus asked, smiling wryly back at Octavius over his shoulder. “The ‘sports car’ my liege?”_

_“Mmm, quite,” Octavius nodded, sharing the same little smile with Cyrus. When his eyes found Jed’s again he looked uncomfortable. Conflicted._

_The constricting feeling in Jedediah’s chest tightened further, tight, tight, tight, and he felt the smile slip from his face._

_“Er…Cyrus, may Jedediah and I have a word in private? It won’t take but a moment.”_

_“Of course, my liege,” Cyrus nodded. “I imagine it won’t.” He smiled warmly at the general and reached out to pat Octavius’ shoulder, squeezing lightly before letting him go. He wandered off into the garden while Octavius quickly approached Jedediah._

_“Jede–”_

_“Who’s that?”_

_Octavius blinked at the sudden question. Jed himself was a little surprised by it, but now that he’d said it, he was sticking to his guns._

_“Cyrus,” Octavius said simply. “He is – well, it would be rather difficult to explain the finer points of Roman government, but–”_

_“He seemed awful friendly with you.” Jedediah wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, but he couldn’t stop it either. He folded his arms tightly over his chest, his boots scuffing against the stone-paved path of the garden._

_“Well...yes, I suppose so,” Octavius agreed. He cast a glance over his shoulder toward the man in question. “We’ve known each other for - well, for decades, even prior to awakening in the museum. A loyal man to be sure, if not a little obstinate in his views.”_

_“You plannin’ on hangin’ with Mister Snooty Pretty-Boy all night?”_

_“That remains to be seen.” Octavius sighed, turning back to Jedediah. He smiled. “Depending on how the evening’s conversations go, I very well might. Hopefully it goes well.”_

_Tight, tight, tight–_

_“Hmph.” Jed nodded sharply, scowling. “Fine.” He uncrossed his arms and tugged his stetson a little tighter on his head, eyes blazing and temper skyrocketing. “I see how it is.”_

_Octavius’ smile dropped in an instant._

_“I beg your pardon?”_

_Jed gestured in the general direction of Cyrus._

_“You’d much rather spend yer time with a stuck-up highfalutin aristocrat? Be my guest,” Jed spat. “If stickin’ around means I’ll have ta watch you two sparkin’ in a corner, I want nothin’ to do with it.”_

_“Excuse me?” Octavius snapped, some of his old fighting spirit blazing to life out of nowhere. “I happen to_ be _one of those so-called ‘stuck-up highfalutin aristocrats’, you – you–” the Roman general seemed to be searching for something,_ anything _, clever to say, “–you uncouth, uneducated barbarian!”_

_The moment the words escaped him Octavius clapped a hand over his mouth as though he could take them back. But he couldn’t. Jedediah looked as though he had been slapped, his eyes flying wide and a manic look coming over his face._

_“Am I a ‘savage’ too, toga boy?” Jed snipped, yanking off his hat and stepping up right close to Octavius, nose to nose. Memories from battles long past began to resurface, the banter and the fire in his belly so very, very familiar. “You seem ta like yer smart-talkin’ friend Cyrus so much, why don’t you take the words right out o’ his mouth?”_

_Octavius went pale._

_“Is there a problem, my liege?”_

_Cyrus again. Of course._

_“N-No, Cyrus, it’s perfectly alright,” Octavius was quick to stop Cyrus from interfering. He held up a hand to the man’s chest to push him gently backwards...and the tightness in Jed’s chest suddenly snapped, dropping a lead ball into his gut._

_He snarled._

_“Listen boy - Cyrus, right?” Jed drawled, his accent thick and his eyes ablaze. “Why don’t you take yer man Octavius here as far away from me as ya can, seein’ as if I see of either o’ you anytime soon, I’m bound to let my fists give you both a lickin’ so hard you won’t see straight for a week.”_

_Then, ignoring Octavius shouting his name after his retreating back, Jedediah hightailed it out of Rome faster than you could say hullabaloo._

Lost in his thoughts, not really paying attention, Jedediah almost didn’t see the lumbering mammoth until it was too late. As it was, he jerked the car’s wheel harshly to the right, the vehicle careening out of control and spinning across the museum floor with more momentum than a toy car should ever have. Inertia pulled at him, tugged at his hat, threatened to knock him against the door and the window, but he held tight to the wheel and shifted his footing on the pedals to try and regain control of the vehicle. The car swerved, tires squealing, breaks screaming–

With a horrible crunching sound and the shattering of glass, the car slid sideways into a wall. White smoke billowed from the crumpled hood, looking more like a burning cigarette than a car crash. The engine went quiet and the hall was filled with silence.

* * *

This was Billy’s mess, so he had to clean it up. Or...something like that. That’s what Charlie had muttered to him anyway. So here he was, trying his damndest to scramble his way up a _wall_.

Billy hadn’t had quite as much experience as Jedediah in scaling the walls below America and Rome. He had chosen a rope ladder over a rope as his means of descent from the Wild West, and climbing the rope that hung below Rome was an event in and of itself. Once he finally tumbled up over the edge of the foreign exhibit he was completely out of breath and had to take a moment, lying there on his back, to try and regain some much-needed air.

“What brings you to Rome, Billy?”

Billy opened his eyes to see a very familiar face, a young soldier smiling brilliantly from beneath golden curls. His helmet was tucked under one arm and he held out a hand to Billy, an offering to help him up.

“Fabian!” Billy grinned. He took the hand and found himself being hoisted to his feet, clutching at his hat to keep it on his head. “Howdy! Actually, I’m here ‘cause o’ Jed.”

“Jedediah?” Fabian asked, perplexed. “What of him?”

“He’s been in a right state all night,” Billy explained. He glanced over Fabian’s shoulder to see if he could catch sight of Octavius. “Been silent an’ glarin’ somethin’ fierce since he got back from Rome, then when I went an’ asked iffin I could help ‘im, he went marchin’ off and out o’ the Hall of Miniatures, mad as a march hare.”

“He was here early this evening, if I recall,” Fabian nodded, a concerned furrow creasing his brow. “He was asking around for General Octavius. I pointed him toward the garden.”

Billy quickly refocussed his gaze on his friend.

“You don’t happen ta know where Octavius is now, do ya?”

Fabian opened his mouth to respond, but he didn’t have to say a word, because Octavius himself had suddenly appeared in all his armored glory. The general was muttering rapidly to a soldier at his side, an older man who was listening with rapt attention. With a few final words and an incline of his head, the man left, and Billy pushed past Fabian to get Octavius’ attention.

“Octavius? Sir?” he called out, waving a hand and racing to catch up to his target.

Fabian grabbed at his elbow, desperate to stop him, but Billy was too quick. Octavius looked up and raised an eyebrow at the rather frantic young gunslinger.

“My apologies, m-my liege,” Fabian stammered, quickly crossing a fist over his heart and inclining his head in an imperial salute. “He...he wishes to speak with you on the matter of–”

“Jed’s run off an’ I’m tryin’ to help fix it.” A beat. “Sir.”

Octavius blinked at the rapid onslaught of information and he held up a hand to quiet the pair.

“It is quite alright, Fabian,” he placated the young soldier. “At ease.” Then he rounded on Billy, his expression sharp and focussed, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “What was your name?”

“Billy, sir.” Billy removed his hat and clutched it to his chest, trying to be respectful.

“Billy.” Octavius nodded. “And what is this about Jedediah running off?”

“Well – sir –” Billy’s hat crumpled in his grip. “So...he left fer Rome early this evenin’ lookin’ pretty chipper, happy as a clam. He was only gone a little while...but when he came back he looked pissed as hell an’ nobody could get ‘im to talk about it.”

Octavius winced, but gestured for Billy to continue.

“So he’s sittin’ there by the water barrels, fiddlin’ with his pistols, scarin’ off anyone who done get close enough to try an’ help. And he stays there for a good couple ‘o hours. So I’m thinkin’ I might give it a try, seein’ as he’s always sorta been kinder to me than some o’ the other folk. And the minute I start askin’ ‘bout you an’ about Rome an’ such, he gets all fired up and storms on out of the Hall o’ Miniatures. We ain’t seen ‘im since, and it’s about an hour ‘til sunrise.”

Octavius closed his eyes, his expression tense, and he muttered a quiet string of Latin that had Fabian going a little pink. When he looked up again a minute concern was shining behind his eyes that Fabian was wise enough not to comment on. The general stood still for a few moments, mulling over what Billy had just told him. The hand at his sword’s hilt tightened its grip, his knuckles going white...then he nodded sharply.

“Very well.” He clapped Billy on the shoulder. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I shall set out to find him immediately, as - I’m afraid - it may be my fault that he’s in such a state.”

Octavius swept past both boys with a goal in mind, his feet carrying him swiftly toward the stables that held the horses when they weren’t being used for chariot races.

Billy watched him go with a low whistle, perching his hat back on his head.

“He’s in a state, ain’t he?”

_Thwack_

“Ouch! Hey!” Billy rubbed at his arm where Fabian had backhanded him. “What was that for?!”

“That was my _superior_ ,” Fabian hissed, looking more than a little annoyed. He plopped his helmet over his hair and began fastening the chin strap. “I am still new in my position and I don’t wish to jeopardize that. The next time you wish to ruffle the feathers of our general, I would be much obliged if you would, _please_ , keep me out of it.”

“Aw shucks…” Billy fiddled with a button on his vest, looking abashed. “I wasn’t tryin’ to get you in trouble, Fay. I was jus’ worried fer Jed. He’s been acting mighty ornery lately an’ it’s worrisome.” He peaked up at Fabian from beneath his hat. “‘M sorry if I get you into trouble.”

Fabian sighed, shaking his head at the young gunslinger. An adoring smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.

“Whatever am I to do with you?”

* * *

The sound of galloping hooves rang out quietly through the halls of the museum, muffled by the sounds of other exhibits passing by and by the fact that the horse and his rider were both no more than a few inches high. But even at their small stature, the pair travelled quickly through the halls, clinging to walls when possible and weaving through legs when it wasn’t.

Fifty-three minutes until sunrise.

“Jedediah!” Octavius called out, urging his steed onward as fast as he could go. “Jedediah! Jed–”

“Woah, Octavius, where’s the fire?”

Octavius drew his horse to an abrupt halt, looking up – and up and up and up – into the face of the museum night guard.

“Larry!” Octavius greeted him, clutching the horse’s reins a little tighter. “Good evening. You wouldn’t happen to know where Jedediah is, would you?”

Larry knelt down closer to Octavius’ level.

“Not exactly,” Larry shrugged. “Sorry. But I did have some vikings complaining to me earlier about him driving around in their wing of the museum. Something about him nearly tripping some of their–”

“Thank you, my liege,” Octavius nodded in thanks, not even allowing Larry to finish what he had been saying before starting off again at top speeds. The vikings exhibit was upstairs. He had to be quick if he wanted to find Jedediah before sunrise.

When he finally arrived in the wing that housed the vikings (among others) many of the exhibits there were working their way back to their displays. A few were left wandering the halls - a rather large mammoth being one of them - but the path was fairly clear of obstructions and obstacles.

“Jedediah?” Octavius called out again, hoping to hear some sort of reply. “Jededi–”

_Oh_.

Oh, _no…_

The rest of the word caught in his throat and he gasped, his eyes falling on the wreckage of a familiar blue and red car. White smoke was leaking slowly from beneath the bent hood and Octavius could see the sparkling of shards of glass littering the floor near the wreck.

“No…” Octavius whispered, his heart hammering in his chest. He dismounted his borrowed horse and didn’t even bother tying him up, covering the distance between himself and the car in record time. “Jedediah!” He leaned down, tapping on the unbroken passenger window, trying to peer inside the dark vehicle. He couldn’t see anything–

“Would you quit yer yammerin’? I’m _fine._ ”

Octavius jerked back. The voice had some from somewhere to his right, near the hood of the car. What…? He followed the sound to find Jedediah sitting against the wall in front of the wreck, his hat in his lap and his neckerchief balled up and pressed to the side of his head. He glared heatedly at Octavius.

“Th’ hell d’you want, ‘Tavius?”

“Jedediah…I thought…” Octavius crouched before his friend, reaching toward him but faltering when Jed tensed at the proximity. “...I was concerned. You had yet to return and when I happened upon the car–”

“Well clearly I’m _fine_ ,” Jed snipped, looking away from the other miniature. “I can make do on my own.”

What was Octavius even doing here? He had seemed plenty happy in that damned garden, hadn’t he? What reason could he possibly have to abandon Pretty-Boy Curtis when he so clearly _loved_ spending time with him?

“Cyrus?” Octavius asked, sounding baffled.

Oh. Had he said that aloud? The tightness from earlier reappeared in his chest, a tension rising in him at the mere mention of Cyrus’ name. Jedediah scowled and leveled another glare at Octavius.

“Yeah, _Cyrus_ ,” Jedediah drawled. “Him. I’m surprised you left yer lil _spark_ behind ta come lookin’ for me.”

“My - what?”

Jedediah shook his head and let the hand holding his neckerchief fall into his lap, uncovering the slowly bleeding cut at his hairline.

“Forget it.” He pushed himself to his feet, leaning hard against the wall when the hallway began to spin in his vision.

“Jedediah, you’re bleeding!”

Jed pushed Octavius’ reaching hands away and stepped away from the wall, half walking and half staggering away from the wreckage. He clutched his hat in one hand, not quite willing to put it on with his head pounding the way it was.

“I’ve had worse.”

“Would you stop pushing me away? Please?”

Jedediah waved him off. Behind him, he heard Octavius let out a frustrated growl.

“Jedediah Smith, sit the hell down!” he snapped, and Jed’s feet actually stumbled to a halt beneath him. He could feel the Roman general’s eyes on his back, could hear the commanding tone of a leader leaking into Octavius’ words. “You’re being obstinate and idiotic, and if you don’t let me _help you_ , then the next time I see you may very well be at the bottom of the stairs, after you have tripped and fallen down them in your stubborn attempt to make some kind of _point_ to me.”

“Obstinate and idiotic, huh?” Jed repeated saltily, not turning around. “Am I an ‘uncouth, uneducated barbarian’ too? Or was that Cyrus talkin’ for you?”

He would hear Octavius approaching him, could hear the rattle of metal-on-metal, of his sword falling against his armor.

“You know full well I didn’t mean any true disrespect,” Octavius said sharply. “And even if I did, I have said _far_ worse to you in the past, and never before have you reacted in such a way as this. What is the _real_ problem here?”

“I don’t rightfully know, okay?!” Jed shouted, turning around and flinging his hat at the ground between them. “I don’t _know_. I just–” the cowboy ran both of his hands through his hair, the wavy strands looking even more unruly and _wild_ than they usually did.

(Octavius tried very hard not to get distracted by the sight.)

“I jus’ know that when I was in that garden, an’ you were bein’ all chummy with Cyrus, I didn’t like it. It...it didn’t _sit_ right. An’ maybe that’s me bein’ selfish, and maybe I shouldn’t be the one ta judge you fer wantin’ ta spend time with somebody other ‘n me, and - and–” Jed was pacing now, his feet carrying him in a small but rambing path in front of Octavius, whose eyes followed him all the while. “–and why should _I_ care if you an’ this Cyrus fella wanna go spark in a garden somewhere–”

“You keep using that word.”

“...what?”

Jed stopped short, blinking, looking a little thrown by the odd intrusion.

“Spark. Sparking.” Octavius furrowed his brow. “My apologies, but...I don’t believe I’m familiar with the phrase.”

“A spark,” Jed said. “A boyfriend. A lover _._ _Amator. Necessitudo. Amor._ ” He switched to Latin, as though it would make his meaning more clear.

Octavius stared, then snorted, then he was laughing, unable to hold it back.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Jed snapped, pointing at his friend. “I studied Latin when I was young, I know I’m sayin’ it right!”

“No - ahah - _no_ ,” Octavius held up a hand, eyes sparkling with mirth. “No, you misunderstand...Jedediah, Cyrus is _not_ my ‘lover’.” He buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter. He muttered quietly to himself: “Goodness, Jupiter help me…”

“He’s not?” Jedediah asked, flummoxed. “Y’all seemed mighty friendly when I walked in on you.”

“Goodness me, no!” Octavius shook his head, finally calming his laughter enough to talk clearly. “Cyrus is a member of Rome’s _government_ , and a stubborn one at that. He is firmly set in his ways. I have been working toward drawing up a sort of truce or agreement of allegiance between Rome and your people, and Cyrus remains one of the few who are _against_ the idea. This evening I was attempting to do a bit of...oh, how would you say it...schmoozing? Currying favor with him? I believe that’s the saying.”

“...and all that talk about how it might take all night, an’ how you hoped it’d go well…?”

“Jedediah, if it went well, Cyrus and I would have spent _less_ time discussing the matter, not _more_ ,” Octavius assured him. “I wanted it to go well so that I could be finished earlier in the evening and...” He looked a little abashed as he admitted: “...and so that I could spend _more_ time with _you_.”

Jedediah stared at him, his expression suddenly blank, and all the anger and tension and frustration seemed to melt out of him.

“...oh.”

Jed ducked his head, shoving one gloved fist deep in his pocket while the other scratched at the back of his neck with the neckerchief still clutched in its grip

“You honestly thought Cyrus and I were romantically involved?” Octavius asked, the faintest of smirks dancing across his lips. “Truly?”

Jed felt the blush crawling up his neck before Octavius even saw it, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He scowled.

“Oh, shut up, Ockie,” he grumbled. “You two were bein’ all touchy-feely, an’ he kept givin’ you this _smile_. It looked pretty convincin’ to me, alright?”

“By the gods, you were _jealous_.” Octavius looked as though Christmas had come early - or whatever holiday it was that Romans celebrated in the winter. “Were you jealous?”

Jedediah glared. Octavius chortled, eyes bright and grin wider than Jed had ever seen.

“You absolutely were!”

“So what if I was?” Jed asked, his entire face engulfed in a deep blush. “I didn’t like how he was lookin’ at you. I told you, it didn’t sit right. It made me feel all–” He gestured helpless, wordlessly, toward his chest with both hands. “–all-overish.”

Octavius leaned down to pluck Jedediah’s stetson from the ground, lightly dusting it off and stepping closer to the floundering cowboy.

“If you must know, I find it rather sweet.”

“I ain’t _sweet–_ ”

Octavius pushed the black stetson into Jed’s free hand.

“Jedediah, _cara_ , take the compliment.” Octavius tugged the crumpled neckerchief from Jedediah’s clenched fist, bringing it up to press lightly against the still-slowly-bleeding wound Jed was sporting near his temple. Despite himself, Jed found himself leaning into the touch. “Truth be told, when you showed up in the garden I was about ready to abandon my meeting to join you. Before you started arguing with me it was quite difficult for me to remember I had an important goal to achieve.”

There was a moment of quiet. Octavius reached up with his other hand to carefully hold Jed’s hair out of the way while he cleaned the wound as best he could with nothing but a wad of fabric.

“...you were there for longer than I knew, weren’t you?”

Jed stiffened.

“You heard some of the horrible words Cyrus was using to describe you and the other cowboys. You quoted them back at me, Jedediah. Don’t deny it.”

“I...yeah, I was.”

“Why not show yourself sooner? Why hide?”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to snoop, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jed sniffed. When Octavius didn’t say anything, he went on: “You looked so blame happy when I got there, that’s all. You were smilin’ so bright it was like you were impersonatin’ the sun itself, and then you laughed. And you jus’ looked so…”

Octavius’ hand stilled, his focus narrowing in on what Jedediah was saying. And, lord above, he really _must_ be worse off from the crash than he had thought, because he was admitting things he hadn’t even quite come to terms with himself. His expression closed off and he stepped back, out of Octavius’ reach, his grip on his stetson tight.

“So...what?” Octavius pressed gently, eyes curious.

“Forget it.” Jed took a step back, then another, then turned and started making a beeline for the wayward horse Octavius had ridden here on. He shoved his hat on his head and reached for the reins.

“Jedediah, I asked that you please stop trying to push me away,” Octavius sighed, sounding mildly frustrated. “For the love of Archimedes, _stop_.”

Catching up with his friend, Octavius grabbed Jed’s wrist and spun him around, giving the cowboy no room for argument.

“What were you going to say?”

Jed, to his credit, only looked mildly constipated as he warred over whether or not to speak his mind, but finally Octavius’ pleading expression did him in.

“Handsome.” Jed’s eyes flickered from Octavius’ face to the grip on his wrist and back again. “I was _goin’_ ta say ‘handsome’. Ya happy now?”

Much to his shock, Octavius smiled.

“Actually, that is _exactly_ what I was hoping you would say.”

Before Jedediah could even register that earth-shattering statement, there were lips on his, and his stetson was being pushed askew by a shiny silver helmet. He squeaked - something he would later vehemently deny - and shoved half-heartedly against the polished surface of Octavius’ armor. The general pulled back, looking uncertain, and his cheeks went pink.

“I...I apologize,” Octavius stammered, beginning to step back from him completely. “If I have misread this situation entirely, then–”

“Just so we’re clear,” Jed cut him off, eyes wide and wild, his hat having fallen to the floor, “I meant what I said back in the garden.”

“...which part?”

Jedediah grabbed Octavius by the front of his armor, bringing them nose-to-nose.

“If I see that Cyrus feller so much as _breathe_ in yer general direction, I might just give him a lickin’ so hard he’ll be seein’ stars fer weeks.”

Then it was Jedediah who was surprising Octavius, pulling him into a less romantic and more heated kiss than the one Octavius had tried to initiate. Jed had him pinned against the wall before he could react properly, the cowboy’s fingers tugging at the ties of his helmet, willing the leather fastening to release so he could kiss the man properly. Octavius pushed him back long enough to catch his breath and help with the ties. When his helmet had joined Jed’s stetson on the floor, Octavius paused to ask one quick question.

“So...would this be considered ‘sparking’? Or–”

Jedediah snorted then fell into giggles. He buried his face in Octavius’ neck, his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. When he stood straight again his eyes were sparkling.

“You ridiculous, highfalutin – oh, c’mere.”

When Larry found them not ten minutes later, he wasn’t quite as shocked as Jedediah had expected. He had been more concerned about the car crash and how close it was to sunrise than their change in relationship status – “Whaddaya mean ‘finally’?! Th’ hell are you on about, Laredo?” – and had offered to carry them (and the horse) back to the Hall of Miniatures so they could get back in their proper positions.

“I’ll deal with the car,” Larry told them, jogging down the stairs and walking briskly toward the diorama room. “And I’ll buy a new one. But next time, _please_ be more careful. I don’t want to be cleaning up a tiny crime scene if you spin out of control again.”

“Yeah, I’ll be careful,” Jed promised. “I lost my head tonight. Sorry ‘bout that. It won’t happen again.”

“It had better not. Now, whose horse is this?”

* * *

The next evening, Octavius awoke feeling better than the night before. He had promised Jedediah he would visit him tonight, but he also had a few matters to settle before then. He was in the city square with Marcus, is second in command, going over some of the finer details of the allegiance he wished to propose, when an all-too-familiar voice rang out from behind him.

“Hey Ockie!”

Octavius swiveled around to see Jedediah sauntering through Rome, looking as cocky and boisterous as ever. He murmured a momentary farewell to Marcus and went to meet the cowboy.

“Jedediah!” he greeted him, smiling brightly, if not looking a little confused. “Good evening. To what do I owe this pleasure? You do remember I said I would be visiting later, yes…?”

“O’ course I remember,” Jed said. “But I wanted to see you anyway. Make sure Mister Pretty Boy was keepin’ his distance.”

Octavius stifled a chuckle.

“Jedediah, you have nothing to fear,” he murmured in an undertone. “I told you, I have no interest in Cyrus. Only you.”

“Oh, I know,” Jed ducked his head sheepishly. His cheeks were a tad flushed. “But even then...I figured I’d make sure _he_ knew that too, in case he starts gettin’ any ideas. Figured I’d make it clear as crystal. Y’understand?”

“Clear as…? _Mmph!_ ”

Jedediah pulled Octavius into a kiss, right there in the city square, leaving Octavius to cling to him for dear life as the draw of Jedediah’s lips threatened to pull him under. And just as Octavius was beginning to forget that people were watching, Jed pulled back to press their foreheads together, bumping noses and grinning.

“See?” he breathed. “Clear as crystal.”

Then he was gone, sidling out of Rome and sliding expertly down the rope at its border as though he had never been there at all, leaving a flustered and blushing Roman general in his wake.

Oh, Jupiter give him strength...

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I admit, Billy and Fabian took up more screen time than I had initially intended, but they sort of refused to step out of the way to let Octavius and Jedediah stay in the spotlight. ^^;; I would apologise, but frankly I fell in love with them, so I'll let it pass for now.
> 
> This was my first time really trying to write Jedediah and Octavius as well, so hopefully they're in character! They're two of my absolute favorites, so I was hoping I did them both justice.
> 
> ~ Pixie


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